Blankets, Brothers, and Booty Shorts for Christmas
by colormeahotmess
Summary: Dick never would have guessed the youth was capable of looking innocent, let alone endearing. The ultimate deception, to be sure. Revised.


**Author's Note**: YES! I'm so proud of myself right now! Thanks to all of your wonderful hits, reviews, and favorites, I was determined to make another story before too much time passed. I can't tell you all how wonderful it was to see the support. So, here you go! I had a basic scenario set up, but it somehow turned into a holiday fic, just in time for the holiday season I guess. Consider it a present from me to all of you! Please enjoy my contribution to the spirit of the season!

**A/N (2)**: I told you Jason's lack of vulgarity wouldn't last. Oh, and the design for the blanket? It's the design of my robe. It's one of my best friends and the source of much inspiration.

**Warning(s)**: Jason's mouth. Merry Christmas, indeed.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own these characters or the setting they inhabit. I'm just using them to create my own dose of holiday cheer.

**Revised on November 2, 2013.**

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><p>"…What the hell?"<p>

Dick blinks at him with surprise. While Jason's profanity is no longer anything to blink at, the disbelief in the boy's voice is questioning.

"What's the problem?"

Jason looks at him with further incredulity. "What is _that_?"

"It's a blanket. For the movie, remember?" The older boy still doesn't understand the reason behind his brother's outrage.

"Of course I remember the movie! I'm not stupid. What I mean is, why the hell is that blanket baby blue with clouds on it? It's totally girly!"

Dick frowns with his own bout of indignation. Alfred would say he's pouting. He begs to differ. He's simply showcasing his anger through lip-language.

"Excuse you?! I'll have you know this blanket is a novelty item, and it was given to me by someone very dear. It's special, and it's design is one-of-a-kind."

Jay's laughter intercepts and tackles his passionate speech to the ground as the his arms latch onto his stomach and he collapses to the carpeted floor below. His guffaws, despite being at Dick's expense, ultimately bring a grin to the elder's face. Jason may have emotional issues, but his zest is unquestionable. As much as the boy can feel anger with suffocating intensity, he can feel joy in at least equal amount.

Eventually (four minutes and twenty-five seconds, to be exact), Jason's chortles subside, and he's left gasping for breath as he speaks.

"Okay, I get it. It's important. Whatever. Just warn me next time you want to get in touch with your feminine side. I'll be sure to steer clear."

"Shut up." Dick resists the childish desire to stick his tongue out at his younger boy, then realizes that Jason has succeeded in de-aging him to a twelve-year-old punk. "The next time I get in touch with my 'feminine side', I'll make it my personal mission to get you to join me."

"Good luck, Booty Shorts!"

"Keep talking! You'll be wearing them soon enough!" Here he is, bantering with a child almost twice his junior like it's the most natural occurrence in the world.

_Something Wally has been trying to do for years, Jason does in a matter of weeks. I'm screwed._

Dick mentally sighs, deciding to deal with the 'problem' another time, and turns to the boy with him. He lifts an eyebrow when he sees Jason off the floor and on the couch, the 'girly' blanket wrapped around his person in luxurious comfort, with the perfect space left for Dick's (currently) larger body. He snorts at the sight of Jason's head tucked into the cloth so that his blue eyes and ebony bangs are the only things visible as he flips through channels with a bored expression. Dick would never have guessed the youth was capable of looking innocent, let alone endearing. The ultimate deception, to be sure.

Jason sees him watching and temporarily lowers the blanket. "You gonna stand there like a moron or get this show on the road? I was nice enough to leave you some room. Get'cher ass movin'."

Dick, his eyes rolling upward, crosses the short distance to the plush couch moved to the center of the room and makes a show of scrabbling his way under the blanket, consequently ruining Jason's self-made cocoon and earning himself an earful. Before too long, they find their places on the sofa, and Dick hits the 'play' button on the remote for the VCR. He's taken it upon himself to broaden Jason's movie cache (which consists primarily of horror, gore, and slapstick comedy) by presenting a feature film the boy would never choose.

"Jason, welcome to 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'."

At first, Jason's face is lit with curiosity before it morphs into a look of confusion.

"Wait, isn't that a kid movie made with that claymation crap from Disney? I'm not watching this! It's for babies!"

Dick smirks at the boy's expression and notes the irony of Jason's claim. The boy's head is once again tucked into the blanket, his dark hair wild and unruly as usual, his lips locked in an angry pout.

_In other words, he looks like the child he insists he's not._

"Relax. You'll like it, I promise. This happens to be one of the few 'kid movies' that even adults aren't ashamed to love."

Jason's expression doesn't change, but he eases his body back into a comfortable position against the sofa.

"It better be." An unspoken threat that has Dick grinning and reaching over to pull the blanket further over the boy's face, which results in his looking even _more_ childlike than before. Not that he needs to know. While Jason's body has gained some much-needed substance due to Bruce's training and Alfred's cooking, he still maintains a certain scrawniness that lends to his fragile appearance. In his time on the streets of Gotham, his sustenance consisted of anything that would get him through to the next day and nothing that could ever be called a proper meal.

At thirteen years of age, Jason's natural development would have him much closer to Dick's height and build. Instead, he looks to be no older than ten, an unfortunate consequence of a fate he couldn't control.

Then again, Jason's small size (a claim that wouldn't fit for long, according to Bruce) hasn't stopped him from commanding enough attitude to overtake twenty fully grown men, and a left hook to match.

Jack Skellington's gift-giving is being rudely interrupted by the police when Dick glances out the corner of his eye to see Jason enraptured, though he's trying his best to appear less interested. He turns to Dick, his eyes earnest.

"Why the hell would he want to take over Christmas? He rules Halloween! That holiday's way better than sucky Christmas!"

Dick blinks. "You serious? What about presents?"

Jason sniffs crossly. "I never got any presents from some old fat guy. But I _did_ get candy on Halloween. Kept me full for _weeks_. Christmas never came close."

The statement's so casual Dick almost doesn't catch it. Jason doesn't seem to mind recalling his time in Crime Alley. If anything, he simply regards it as a piece of his past he's happy to put behind him, but it still causes a small bit of discomfort for those less in tune with him. Alfred once told Dick about the first gala Jason attended as Bruce's newest ward, and how he single-handedly shunted every first-class, snot-nosed dignitary who foolishly tried to treat him like Bruce's personal charity case. He ended the night with a purposeful "fuck you" (that's what Dick concluded from Alfred's tactful translation) to the event's highest contributor. Bruce's reaction was varied, equal parts proud and sorrowful at the reminder of Jason's circumstances.

At this moment, Dick can relate to his pseudo father. Instead of letting the slight awkwardness show, he smiles and says, "Fair enough. But I'll bet your opinion changes when you experience a Wayne Christmas." He sighs fondly. "Definitely a memory to last a lifetime."

Jason lets out another sniff and shuffles to bury himself further under the blanket. "Yeah. Right."

By the end of the movie, Jason has unconsciously changed position again, and now his entire body is curled on Dick's solid chest, his head buried in his brother's broad shoulder. A light snore issues from his lips, and Dick knows he's out for the count. Just as he's about to carry the boy to his room, he hears the front door open, and Bruce, along with Alfred, crosses the threshold into the foyer. Dick knows he has a perfect view of the living area where he and Jason are camped out, and sure enough, his mentor looks to the sofa and locks eyes with his eldest. To Dick's surprise, he slowly smiles.

"Rough night?" he asks, his tone humored, and Dick looks down to see Jason still burrowed in his chest, even with his gentle jostling.

"Yeah," he replies uncomfortably. He and Bruce have reached a kind of civil impasse, but there still exists a kind of tension between them, enough for both of them to keep their distance from one another. With Jason's presence, however, circumstances seem to be slowly, gradually improving.

"Do you want me to take over, Master Richard?" Alfred's offer, while tempting (Jason continues to grow every day), isn't necessary, and Dick shakes his head as he rises completely off of the couch with Jason in his arms.

"It's all right, Alfie, I got 'im."

"I believe I'll retire for the evening, then. Goodnight, sirs."

Alfred begins his ascent up the staircase before turning back to the younger men.

"Oh, and Master Dick. Be sure to return the furniture to its original position before you retire as well."

Dick smiles sheepishly. "It was Jason's idea."

Alfred's not convinced. "I'm sure it was. But seeing as the youngest master is currently occupied, I'll leave the responsibility to you."

Dick sighs. He knew he wouldn't buy it. "Yes, Alfie."

He swears he sees a smirk on the old man's face. "Very good, sir." With that, the faithful butler (and secret shadow king of Wayne Manor) disappears up the dark staircase.

Dick turns to Bruce. "He scares me, sometimes."

"I know. He scares me, too."

Both grin in unison before Bruce comes cautiously closer and places a warm, heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "Why don't you two head on up to bed? It's late, and it's hard enough getting Jason to sleep at a decent hour."

The younger man chuckles quietly and does his best to salute while still holding Jason securely. "Got it. Night."

"Goodnight, boys."

Okay, so maybe things could be better. But they're progressing, and that's what counts.

Dick finally reaches Jason's door, nudges it open with his sock-clad foot, and tries to lay him on his bed. To his amusement, the boy briefly refuses to cooperate, and his arms tighten around Dick's shoulders.

"C'mon, Lil' Wing. I have to go to bed, too, y'know."

Jason mumbles incoherently and reluctantly lets go, and Dick lowers him to the bed and tucks the comforter around his person. Finally, he leans down to remove the hair from his forehead.

"G'night, you little monster."

As he reaches the door to head to his own warm bed, a voice sleepily calls from the darkness.

"Hey, Dick?"

He turns back with a smile. Of course the kid would wake up _now_. "Yeah?"

Jason grins softly, his blues reflecting the little light from the hallway. "Thanks for the movie. It _was_ pretty awesome."

"I told you it would be."

"Yeah…"

Dick knows that hesitance when he hears it. "Is there something else?" He can't see his face well, but he swears a light blush colors Jason's cheeks as he shifts slightly under the blankets.

"Um…will you be here for Christmas?"

Shaking his head at the boy's hopeful question, Dick returns to his side and reaches down to ruffle his hair. "Tell you what; I'll do my best to make sure we have plenty of time to spend together for the holidays, just the two of us. We can even roast chestnuts, decorate the tree, drink hot chocolate, the whole nine yards."

Jason smirks, but loses it in a yawn. "You sound like one of those cheesy Hallmark cards. You won't show up in a red suit, will you?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes' and a compliment. And no, that's Bruce's job." Jason's eyes widen.

"You're kidding, right?"

Just to scare him, Dick pretends to seriously consider it, then finally joins Jason in a deep shudder as disturbing images of the Batman bouncing around the manor shouting "Ho ho ho!" sweep through their thoughts without mercy. Five seconds later, they leave the picture in the blackest corners of their minds and quickly wish one another a peaceful night.

There really is no point in ruining the holidays with those kinds of horrific imaginings.


End file.
